Forgive Me
by xoxosecret
Summary: He thought she was only a girl. She thought he was only a ghoul. How wrong they both were. In other words, Uta meets the little sister of Kishou Arima and they both terribly underestimate each other. Possible romance, probably some random Amon and Akira for good measure.
1. Eyes

_Please forgive any typos! It's my first time writing and I didn't really check through it that thoroughly! Also, this place seriously needs more Uta fics. _

[-]

The first thing she notices is his eyes. They're black with red pupils – not at all the normal human colors – and widened in surprise at seeing her. "Your eyes!" she blurts out. "Are they contacts – I mean, of course they are, duh." His face relaxes, eyes blinking slowly as he takes in the sight of this little girl with a voice far too loud for her body. She hadn't noticed the alarm in his face until it'd disappeared. Or maybe he was just good at hiding things. "They're so cool though! I've always wanted to get color contacts too, I just chicken out every time cause the thought of sticking something in my eyes freaks me out, you know."

"I suppose so," he replies calmly, "but I'm not particularly squeamish when it comes to eyes."

"Mm," she mumbles, her attention already turning to the masks on display all around the shop. "Ooh, this one's really cute!" She picks up a white mask with a rabbit design. "You must be really talented to make all these, Mr. – umm."

"Uta," he says, gently taking the mask from her hands and putting it back on the table.

"Oh, I'm so sorry! I didn't know I wasn't supposed to touch it!"

"That's alright. Don't worry about it, Miss –"

An awkward pause follows as she fails to pick up on the very cue she gave him just seconds ago. "Umm…" she murmurs. "Awkward…" she stretches the word out just a little, lightheartedly.

He laughs. "I was asking your name."

"Oh, duh – I'm so stupid! I'm Maki, sorry!"

"Mm," he replies, polishing the rabbit mask gently to remove her fingerprints. "How delicious sounding."

"Too bad I'm not for eating!" Maki jokes as she prances off to look at some of the other masks lining the walls. "And I don't really like sushi, anyways. I mean, some of it is okay, but all the raw stuff is gross. I like my food cooked, thank you very much." She grimaces to express her displeasure.

"What a pity, raw food is my favorite," Uta answers, his soft, almost monotone voice contrasting with her loud, abrasive one.

"Besides, there's no way my parents would pick the spelling of my name that means sushi, silly." She runs her fingertips over another mask, already forgetting not to touch. It's a black mask, stiff and leathery looking, with a square eyepatch on one side. Across the bottom stretches an open mouth with a zipper through it. Another zipper extends up the neck, presumably to secure it in place. "This one's really scary." For once, her voice is quiet.

Uta turns to see which mask she's looking at. "That's my favorite one," he smiles, coming over to join her.

Maki feels the tiniest of shivers go down her back as he stands behind her, towering over her and casting her in his shadow. She turns quickly to the side to find another source of distraction. "Holy smokes!" she jumps as she comes face to face with another eye staring straight at her. "Somehow this isn't what I'd had in mind when you said you weren't squeamish about eyes," she remarks, calm again, as she picks up the jar of eyeballs from his desk, turning it slowly to examine each eye within it.

Uta chuckles lightly, not offering any means of explanation. "Yeah, that tends to scare people."

"Eh, it's not that scary," Maki responds. "I mean, I'm a biology student, so I'm used to seeing organs and stuff preserved around the classroom. I just didn't expect to see them looking back at me like that, jeez." Now set on her favorite topic – biology – Maki prattles on without any regard to Uta. Despite her apparent clumsiness, she's passionate about her studies. "Last week, we were dissecting pig hearts, and the professor accidentally dropped a whole tray of them on the ground, and the preservation fluids and stuff went all over the floor, and then I slipped in it and landed straight on top of all the hearts and stuff, and it was so, so, so gross, but also kind of awesome. I smelled really horrible for the rest of the day though. And a few weeks before that, we did eyes too! That was really fun!"

"I thought you said you were squeamish around eyes."

"Oh, my eyes, maybe, but when they're someone else's that's a totally different story."

"How cruel of you," Uta chuckles, "to not care about the poor person those eyes came from."

"Obviously they weren't human eyes!" Maki gasps. "They were cow eyes, silly. They don't let us dissect human organs except in really rare occasions. Not a lot of people donate their organs to research, after all."

"My bad, my bad," Uta brushes his mistake aside. "Most people prefer to be preserved themselves, I suppose. The thought of being cut apart and discarded isn't particularly appealing, after all."

"Yeah, I guess," Maki agrees. "I'm totally going to donate my body to research though! I don't mind letting my body be used like that if it's for someone else's good. And besides, I'll be dead by then anyways, so I mean, I myself won't care."

Uta gives her a cool, calculating look. With his black and red eyes, Maki can't tell whether she feels perturbed simply because of their unusual coloration, or if she really does get the sensation that he's inspecting her.

"Hey, I'm not crazy or something, you know," Maki says defensively. "Scientific research really is important. That's how they find out about all kinds of diseases and disorders and whatnot. Otherwise how would they even – Oh!" She breaks off abruptly as her phone rings, obnoxiously disturbing the calm room with its scratchy dubstep. "Sorry, I have to take this."

Uta nods, watching as Maki hurries out of the shop, the door clanging closed behind her and leaving him in silence.

Outside, Maki hurriedly answers her phone. "Arima, yeah, I'm in Shinjuku! I'll be back soon, I swear!"

[-]

_Oh, note, Maki is a Japanese girls name, but it's also the word for rolled sushi. I think they're pronounced the same way, but I'm not totally sure. If someone wants to correct me, please do! And if you have any other criticisms, suggestions, or encouragement, feel free to leave those too! Updates coming soon! Thanks for reading!_


	2. Masks

"Uta!" she calls triumphantly, throwing the door wide open.

The mask maker looks up from his work, not at all startled by the sudden explosion of noise and energy within the studio. Occurrences like this have become rather frequent over the last few weeks. "I see you've already left out the honorific, Miss Maki," he says lightly. Coming from most other people – human or ghoul – the disrespect might irritate him, but somehow, he doesn't mind it from Maki. She's bright and lively, and it's a welcome change to his otherwise somber existence. Except that it's not nearly as somber as it seems.

Maki ignores his comment entirely, opting to instead wave a thin sheet of paper in front of his face. "Look, I finished it!"

He smiles knowingly. "Well, let's see it then – put it down somewhere and let me actually _look_ at it, Maki," he adds as she continues waving it about excitedly.

"Oh, right!" Maki slaps the paper down onto the table, smiling broadly as she waits for Uta to assess it.

He turns his chair back around to the table, peering carefully over the pencil marks she's etched into the page. "Not bad, not bad," he muses. "Especially considering it's your first mask."

Maki's smile broadens – if that's even possible at this point – and she lets out a triumphant "Yes!" as she pumps the air with her fist.

Uta chuckles to himself, remembering how shy she'd been just a week ago when she'd asked him for a mask. She'd come into the shop quietly, her hands clasped together – not at all her typical manner of entrance – and he'd thought something was wrong. For a moment, he'd even been worried for her, been willing to help her. "I was wondering," she'd said quietly, looking down at the floor, "if you'd make me a mask."

He'd burst out laughing then. Oh, it'd felt so good to laugh at something so innocent. "Maki," he'd said with mock seriousness, turning the girl around and tilting her chin up so that she was forced to look him in the eyes. She'd looked truly horrified then, sure she was in some kind of trouble. "This is a mask shop. People come here. I make them masks. **Shocking**," he'd laughed, releasing her chin from his grip.

She's laughed too then. "Oh my god, I'm so dumb!"

It'd taken her a week to decide what type of mask she wanted, but she'd finally made up her mind: she wanted a Venetian mask, a half mask with etched lines and symbols. She'd chosen a cat for the design – something both feral and elegant at once – and had worked long and hard on the design all week. So here she was now, her drawing finally complete. Well, complete in her opinion.

"Come here," Uta says, beckoning her to him. "It needs more detail before I can make it. After all, I want to get it just right."

Maki blushes and steps closer, unsure of what exactly he wants her to do.

"Pull up a stool," Uta instructs, pointing at a little one nearby.

Maki grabs the stool and drags it over, its legs scraping across the floor and producing a rather unpleasant sound. Uta sighs; Maki grimaces, "Sorry."

"Don't worry about it," he says, turning back to look at her drawing. "Let's work on your sketch." He proffers her a pencil.

"Oh no, no, you're a much better artist than I am. You draw."

"It's your mask though. You know what you want from it better than I do, so you draw. I'll help." He places the pencil gently into her hands.

"Oh– okay." Maki leans over the drawing, not sure where to start. She'd thought it'd looked so perfect already, and here he was, telling her to work on it.

"Here," Uta murmurs, placing his hand over hers and guiding the pencil tip to the edge of the drawing. With gentle strokes, he begins tracing the pencil over the lines she's made, making them more defined and symmetrical.

Maki blushes and relaxes her hand, allowing him to take over. Before she knows it, he's transformed her simple sketch into a work of art. With textured lines and curves, he's added detail and dimension to her drawing, making it look like an actual mask she can lift off of the page. "It's so magical," she breathes. "I love it."

Uta smiles and stands up, releasing her. She hadn't realized how close they'd been until he left. "Well if you're happy with it, I can take your measurements now and start working right away."

"Sure!" she agrees, scampering over to the chair designated for measurements. Uta approaches behind her, the sound of the tape measure unrolling announcing his arrival. The cool touch of the measure presses itself against her eyes. "It's cold."

He chuckles. "You're the first person I've ever had complain about that."

"Hey, don't tease! You know I'm picky!"

He laughs lightly again. "More like you just like to complain."

"Or maybe I just like to make your life difficult."

"Well, at least you had the decency to warn me this time." He moves the tape measure lower, around her chin so he'll know how long to make the strap.

"That tickles!"

"Sheesh, you're too much." Still, he enjoys this frivolous banter with her. It's different, lighthearted. He can't recall the last time someone talked to him so casually.

"I'm not kidding – it _really_ tickles."

"Alright, alright, you're done." The tape measure whooshes closed again. "Now leave me alone so I can actually make it."

"Yes, boss." That's certainly a new nickname for him – oh, people have called him it before, many, many times, but back then they'd always meant it. He'd never thought he would hear it from someone like this – a _human_.

As Maki settles down to do her biology homework – the only time she's ever quiet – Uta too quiets his mind and gets to work. After all, he's got a mask to make.

[-]

Maki turns the mask in her hands, examining the smooth surface of its underside, before placing it on the table with a sigh. She stretches briefly, reaching her hands up to the ceiling and closing her eyes, exhaling slowly. She's just stalling for time, and she knows it.

Her breath fully exhaled, she can't think of another reason to put the task at hand off any longer. Sighing again, she reaches for a nearby scalpel. It's not the ideal tool for the job, but it's small and sharp, so it'll do. And in a setting like this, there are plenty of scalpels to go around.

With careful, deliberate strokes, she carves out little shavings from the mask. After watching Uta work so diligently on it all week, she feels a tad guilty for ruining it so quickly. It feels like some sort of sacrilege of their friendship, a betrayal of his trust.

There are lots of parts to the mask: an exquisitely fine paper mache base, a rubber outline on the underside for comfort, paint on the front for coloring, and various inlaid metals and glitters. She takes just a small sample of each, but even then, she's sure Uta would notice the changes immediately. Before long, she's assembled a quite a collection of shavings, a messy display on the otherwise sterile table.

With a mortar and pestle, she grinds the substances into powder – well, other than the rubber, which she leaves whole. The sound of the pestle scratching against the mortar grates her ears, and she clenches her teeth. Like nails on a chalkboard, it seems to expand and fill the entire room, so that she can't hear much else.

"Hey," a gentle hand taps on her shoulder unexpectedly.

Maki whirls around, the pestle clanging loudly onto the tabletop as she drops it, "Amon!"

"Sorry," he apologizes quickly, steadying her. "I didn't mean to scare you." He glances at the varied spread of materials on the table before her. "You were just so preoccupied."

"Uh, yeah," Maki replies, flustered. "I was just, um– I just wanted to analyze a mask. You know me, total science nerd," she laughs it off, hoping she doesn't sound too suspicious.

"Yeah," Amon nods easily. He's the trusting sort of person. To her surprise, he pulls up a chair and goes to work on her mortar and pestle, pulverizing the metal shavings she'd been working on much more quickly than she'd been able to.

"Oh– thanks." Maki mumbles, sitting back down.

"No problem," Amon replies, already absorbed in the work. There's just the slightest tilt of a question in his tone. It puzzles Maki for a second before she finds the flaw in her lie – they haven't captured any ghouls recently. There aren't any new masks to analyze.

"Oh, I just, um, found it on the street."

"Hmm," Amon lifts an eyebrow at her and pauses working. Silence descends swiftly as the mortar goes quiet.

"Yeah," she says. Her voice sounds weak, even to herself.

Amon resumes work. "You're hiding a ghoul." Alright, maybe he wasn't the trusting sort of person after all. He'd seen through her in about five seconds. "You found him, the mask maker."

"Yeah," she admits softly, defeated. "I guess. I mean, I won't know for sure until I actually analyze this mask and see if it matches the other ones."

"I see. So you're actually on close terms with him, close enough that you asked him for a mask." He glances at her again to see if he's right. "I suppose you wouldn't tell me who he is."

"No, I wouldn't," she replies, affirming all his suspicions.

"Well, whatever you're doing, stay safe." He says it carefully, slowly.

"Oh– okay." Maybe he is the trusting sort of person after all.

"After all," he smiles, "Arima would kill me if anything happened to you."

"And so would I." A voice comes from the doorway. Amon and Maki look up to see Akira standing there, two bowls of curry in her hands. She comes over to the table and sets the bowls down, shoving one towards Amon. "You don't have to hide things from us, Maki. We're your team, after all."

"_Were_," Maki corrects. "You _were_ my team."

"Oh please, it hasn't been that long since you quit. And you're always around here anyways, so it still feels like you're one of us." Akira smiles fondly at Maki. "Besides, you're my best friend. So don't do anything stupid without telling me."

Maki sighs lightly, not sure how to respond. Usually, she's the cute one, and Akira's serious, so she never knows what to do when their roles get flipped. Luckily, she's interrupted by –

"Akira!" Amon exclaims, choking on his curry. "I said _mild_ curry! This is practically on fire!"

"It is not!" Akira protests, her smile immediately disappearing as she argues with Amon. "It's perfectly mild!"

Maki grins, turning back to her work, as Amon and Akira continue to bicker. They're always like this with each other. "Like a married couple," Arima had said to her just the other day as the two of them had watched in amusement. She'd completely agreed.

After a while, Maki gets up and disappears into the adjoining room; the other two don't notice. They do notice, however, when she returns in a long, white lab coat and places a large jug, akin to one used for holding milk, on the table with a loud _thud_. Unlike a milk jug, however, this one is made of thick glass, and filled with clear liquid, almost like water.

Amon reaches forward curiously.

"Don't touch it!" Maki exclaims, horrified. "That's fifteen molar!"

Amon blinks at her. "And I have no idea what that means."

Maki sighs. "Well, first of all, obviously, it's acid." She points at the white label on the jar, clearly marked and full of various warning signs, complete with a skull and crossbones – the universal sign for a dangerous toxin. "And fifteen molar is really, _really_ concentrated acid. This is the stuff in like, movies, where the acid drips on someone's flesh and just dissolves it. It'll kill you if you aren't careful."

Amon slowly withdraws his hand, "Right. I'll let you handle that then."

Maki grins slightly. "Maybe I'll go work at a different table." She lugs the jug over to another desk, as carefully as she can despite not really being able to support its weight. It's not a graceful sight, but then again, Maki isn't often graceful in anything she does. Finally in a work place of her own again, she lowers the jug down onto the tabletop, before turning to fill a beaker with water. From their own table, Amon and Akira watch curiously. Unlike her, they'd never studied science, opting instead to go straight to the academy as soon as they could and become investigators. So as much as Maki loves her friends, she was careful to exclude them from any dangerous scientific work she did, although she was perfectly fine with them watching from a safe distance, which they did now, their curry forgotten behind them. It always made her happy to share her beloved sciences with other people.

"Acid to water," she says as she carefully uses a burette to release a small quantity of acid into the beaker of water. "_Always_ add acid to water, _never_ the other way around. Remember that."

"Alright," Akira smiles. "I'll remember."

"You'd better," Maki replies. It's just one of the few pieces of wisdom she imparts on her friends over the next few hours as she performs the various chemical analyses. With so many samples from the mask, it takes her a while to perform all the tests, but she doesn't mind.

"Here," she says at one point, shoving a test tube into Amon's hands. He blanches, trying to refuse it. "Chill, it's pretty harmless. No acid this time, I swear." Amon nods and holds the test tube gingerly, eyeing its contents – water with a bit of white powder at the bottom – suspiciously. "Just swish it around and tell me if it dissolves."

"Okay," Amon says softly, slowly turning the test tube in little circles.

Maki chuckles at his cowardice. It's always amusing to watch people like him, so strong and confident on the battlefield, fail helplessly in the classroom. Arima was just the same. "You have to go faster than that," she instructs. "Otherwise it'll never dissolve."

At another point, she hands Akira a beaker of liquid. "Here, hold this," she says, grabbing a flask of liquid and pouring some in.

Akira gasps as bubbles rise from the solution, holding it away from her body.

"It's just carbon dioxide!" Maki giggles. "Chill out!"

Amon shakes his head despairingly. "You can't just keep messing with our heads like this. First you shove deadly acid at us, and then you just expect to be okay with everything!"

"I did _not_ shove deadly acid at you," Maki retorts, taking the beaker back from Akira's hands. "I just put it on the table and you were the one who reached for it. You should know better," she adds mischievously, "since Akira hates it when people touch her stuff."

Amon shakes his head again. "You'll be the death of me."

"Mm," Maki says, giving him another flask. "Not me, I won't, but maybe this one will."

Amon glares at her before peering into the flask. "I don't even want to ask what this one is," he remarks, recoiling as he notices its unpleasant scent.

"Acid," Maki replies cheerfully.

Amon nearly drops the flask. "Don't joke around about things like that!"

"I wasn't joking! It's _vinegar_, silly. Vinegar's an acid, just a really weak one."

Amon breathes a sigh of relief. "You're the worst."

"I'd have to agree with that," Arima says lightly, strolling into the room.

Amon and Akira immediately jump up to greet their superior. Maki though, remains in her place, casually leaning against the side of the table as she swirls a flask around. "Hey, bro," she greets him nonchalantly.

Arima grins and walks around the table to join her. "Sup, little sis," he ruffles her hair before turning to gaze curiously at the myriad of flasks, beakers, and test tube racks spread across the table. His eyes settle on a nearby glass jug, and he bends down to examine it.

"Careful," Maki warns. "That's –"

"Fifteen molar," Amon completes her sentence triumphantly. "Very strong acid capable of dissolving human flesh, so don't touch it."

"Actually, that one's a base," Maki corrects automatically.

Amon sighs in defeat. "I give up."

Akira laughs. "There, there," she comforts him.

Arima glances at Maki and grins. Amon and Akira are just too cute. "Well," he says after waiting a moment. "If you two are done, we should head out. I've got some information on our case."

"Yes sir," Amon jumps up immediately, eager to be away from the strange and baffling magic that Maki calls _chemistry_ and out on the streets hunting ghouls where he belongs.

"Alright, have fun without me, guys," Maki says in mock sadness. "I'll just be here, all alone."

"Or you could come with us." Arima invites her immediately.

Maki shakes her head teasingly. It's one of many attempts to bring her back into being an investigator. "I won't, not ever again. You know that."

"Alright then," her older brother says, somewhat sadly. "See you later then." He beckons to Amon and Akira, and the three of them leave the room.

Alone at last, Maki turns to look at the sheet of paper which lies on her desk. It's a qualitative analysis flowchart, used to determine the components of something. Over the past few hours, she'd filled it with checks and crosses. Now looking it at, she sees clearly that the components of her mask – of Uta's mask – perfectly match those from the masks they'd collected from other ghouls. "You're the one," she murmurs, talking to herself. "You're the one making the masks."

[-]

_Sorry for the late update! I'm working on another story right now - Siblings, which I accidentally posted on my other account - so I kind of neglected this one. Like the title says, please forgive me -puppy eyes- Amon and Akira and Arima are all kind of out of character too. I don't really know where I went wrong there, it just happened. If you've got any suggestions about that, or anything else in my story, please leave them in the reviews! Thanks for reading!_

_Oh, also, I haven't taken chemistry in two years, and I kind of sucked at it back then anyways, so my chemistry descriptions might be a bit inaccurate too. And if I'm spending too much time on sciency stuff, and you guys are getting bored, feel free to tell me! I personally love science, but I'd understand if most of you guys don't. I also know absolutely nothing about mask making. _


	3. Hunter

Some days, like today, there are other customers in the shop.

She'd been nervous the first time it'd happened, unsure of how to compose herself, but she'd grown in confidence over the weeks. By now, it felt like second nature to bounce up to each newcomer, flash them a dazzling smile, and say, "Welcome!" She was an assistant, of sorts; that was how she considered herself, even if Uta had never formally acknowledged it. It wasn't uncommon anymore for her to fetch supplies for him, or to polish the masks she'd once been forbidden to touch. And once he'd discovered her aptitude in chemistry, he'd even allowed her to begin mixing paints. There was no question about it: she wasn't just a customer anymore.

And so, she enjoyed flaunting her new position to those who actually were customers. It seemed to give them a shock each time she went bounding up to greet them – she could see it in their eyes, that quick, sideways glance they would flash Uta in the moment of confusion before she forced them to give all of their attention to her. She figured from their reactions that they were all ghouls, previous customers of Uta who'd expected to do business with their fellow ghoul and not this, well, _human girl_. After Uta had introduced her to the first ghoul that'd come her way – a redhead named Itori who'd taken fondly to her and visited frequently ever since – she'd taken to introducing herself before Uta could. After all, it wasn't like her to be shy.

It wasn't long before she'd completely eased into the routine. True enough, there had been a few unsettling incidents – tall, forbidding men who'd smiled eerily down at her had appeared more than once. On those occasions, she'd imagined she could still see the blood staining their teeth or feel the slight inhalation of their breath as they took in her scent. With those, it was only too easy to see that they were ghouls. Briefly, she would feel nervous, but Uta was always there, placing himself between them and shooting a cold glance at her opponent to warn them off. And so, for the most part, she felt safe. She trusted him, simple as that.

Although, there had been strange occurrences too: a black haired man who'd chuckled unnervingly at her greetings and given Uta a curious wink. That one came bearing a little jar, and when she'd tried to take it from him, Uta had swooped in and intercepted its passage. And there'd been a girl with short, brown hair, a little of it clipped up in the front, who'd laughed too in a sort of strange delight. Maki was certain nothing funny had been said, at yet, the girl had tilted back her head upon laying eyes on her, and let loose a sort of carnal laugh. Neither of those had been interested in buying a mask – it'd seemed they'd come on _other _business. Those were the moments Maki remembered the best, the ones where she got the uneasy feeling that there was something she didn't know. But it was easy to forget them and move on. Ghouls would be ghouls, after all, and despite her initial misgivings, the majority of them had proven decent company. They came in, did their business politely – although whether it was out of unease in her presence, or respect for Uta, she couldn't say – and left, never to be seen again. Very few, other than Itori, came more than once. It seemed Uta was something of a lone wolf: someone to deal with, but not to be friends with – or maybe, someone to be feared.

So now, as the blue haired girl strides in confidently, clutching the hand of the little girl who clings to her, Maki immediately knows that she's different. The air of familiarity and command she exudes about her, the way Uta puts his pencil down once he sees her, the questioning look she sends Maki's way – they all inform her that this girl too isn't just an ordinary customer.

"Mr. Uta," the girl hesitates, her confidence temporarily disabled by the sight of Maki.

"Ah, Touka," Uta replies easily. Maki doesn't miss the quick glare that the girl, Touka, shoots at Uta. Clearly, she'd wanted to keep her identity a secret. "It's good to see you."

"Uh, yeah, I came to get a mask for _her_," Touka explains, indicating the younger girl beside her.

"Yes, yes," Uta murmurs, grabbing his tape measure and striding across the room to the measurement station. "Come over here, Hinami." Again, he completely destroys Touka's efforts. She gives him another glare before gently leading Hinami over.

Confident that Uta's on her side after all, Maki relaxes, kicking her feet back up on the table. Obnoxiously, she blows a bubble from her gum and allows it to pop loudly. Out of corner of her eye, she watches as Touka squirms in displeasure, her nose briefly wrinkling as the wave of sickly sweetness from Maki's bubblegum goes sailing across the room. _Ghoul_, Maki decides.

"Maki," Uta says, reminded of her presence. "You come over here too and help." With that, he's blown her name too – so much for picking a side.

Still, Maki considers it a victory as she swoops over to help Uta, watching Touka's confusion over this human's apparent closeness with the mask maker.

Touka, though, still holds another trump card up her sleeve. "Uta," she says, calling attention back to herself. "We're going to have a meeting Tuesday about, um, _that_ issue, you know."

The obvious exclusion of Maki from the conversation infuriates her; the usage of words like _we_ and _that_ make it painfully clear that there's some secret at hand which she doesn't know about.

But, it's to both girls' surprise when Uta seems to have another secret up his sleeve: "Ah, I can't make it," he apologizes. "I'm afraid I've got a prior commitment. In fact, I'll be out all day."

[-]

_So, the next chapter's going to be a Maki back story to explain some things: how much she knows about Uta, why she quit being an investigator, what her actual job is, etc. After that, I'll start introducing some plot and conflict and whatnot. There is a plot to this, I swear! _

_Anyways, to my reviewers - and sorry that I didn't reply earlier to those who reviewed before I uploaded chapter two. I'm still pretty new around here and I wasn't sure if and how I was supposed to reply._

_**dotoriNAMU**: Glad you think so, and sorry for keeping you waiting! I'll try to update more frequently!_

_**sikaloolala**: Yay, thank you! And don't worry, I'll make sure to write it to completion!_

_**StarmillSKnight**: Yeah, I might have gone a little overboard with her. But we'll start to see a calmer side of her soon I think. I hope you still like her then, haha. And yeah, I tend to default towards horror and angst, so I've been trying to keep the story a little more lighthearted, and sticking in some Amon and Akira was just an easy way to do that._

_And of course, thanks for the reviews, favorites, and follows!  
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